


Candles

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, BDSM, Bondage, Burning, M/M, Masochism, Sexual Content, Temperature Play, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 22:21:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Nobunaga takes advantage of a teachable moment.





	Candles

“Please – “

“Please _what?”_ Nobunaga held the match to the already-burnt wick of the candle, feeling the heat radiating as the wax began to drip again – but he did not move it, not yet. He’d not heard Mitsuhide beg to his satisfaction. He’d been here for hours, tied to himself and laid out on his stomach, stripes of already-solidified wax spanning over his back. Some of the remnants had peeled off of his skin and dropped to the ground below him, and smelling the smoke, Mitsuhide keened somewhere near Nobunaga’s feet.

“Hurt me, Nobunaga-kou,” he gasped, “hurt me _more,_ I want, I want-!"

“I know what you want, Mitsuhide.” Moving his foot, Nobunaga ground his heel down onto Mitsuhide’s fingers, closing his eyes and practically basking in the keening whine that it drew from him. “But do you _deserve_ it?” 

He saw the doubt in Mitsuhide’s eyes, and knew instantly that the man was running through a mental checklist of every possible infraction that he could have committed within the past seven years, at the very least. But Nobunaga, at least for today, was feeling unusually merciful. Perhaps he could afford to be lenient – as long as it came with a warning, that little bit of hidden sting that always lurked behind each and every one of his words. It was why Mitsuhide came running back to him every time without fail.

He leaned down and gently tilted the candle, letting the hot wax dribble over Mitsuhide’s pale skin, leaving red welts in its wake.

“Ah-“

“There.”

“Nobunaga-kou!”

He thrashed a little, his efforts ultimately fruitless – that had been the purpose of the ropes, after all. He had to learn discipline, control, obedience, and even after mastery, extra lessons certainly couldn’t hurt.

“You will _earn_ it next time, Mitsuhide,” he whispered, “or I shall not be so lenient. I expect _results.”_ Pausing for a moment to let the exact meaning of his words sink in, Nobunaga bent, pressed a mockingly chaste kiss to Mitsuhide’s forehead, and then left the room, leaving Mitsuhide tied and shivering and more determined than ever to prove himself.


End file.
